Original Sin

One time, when they were still touring Europe in club wagons and singing in malls, they were at a European version of a Motel 6, and Chris stayed behind while the others went to look for a late night MacDonald's fix. They were still getting used to each other. It's one thing to live at home, in your own house, and sing with these guys during the day, because you still have home, where you can be yourself, and they don't have to know what that means, or whether it's a good thing or a bad thing. So Chris stayed behind, for some time to himself. And they got back, and Lance and Justin walked in without knocking. They shouldn’t have to anyway. And Chris was watching really cheap, not very entertaining French porn. They didn't notice at first, since French isn't something you can easily pay attention to if you don't speak it well. Chris didn't understand the words, and there weren't really very many being spoken anyways, but at the hour of the night, it was the most entertaining thing he could find on a television that only got four channels clearly.

Eventually, Lance looked up at the TV over Justin's shoulder, blanched, and left the room, muttering a prayer under his breath. Chris heard the door close and looked up.

"Where did he go in such a hurry?"

Justin whipped around to face him, and opened his mouth to speak, but shut it again. His face turned red at what he saw in the screen. Chris only chuckled and reached over to turn the power knob to the off position. "Poor guy," he mused. "Running off and praying just cause someone in the room is watching cheap porn. I suppose he still thinks it's a sin to masturbate, too."

Justin only stared at him with his head bowed and sputtered.

"What?" Chris was amused, in a sick way, at the situation.

"Man, that's not cool," Justin finally managed. He looked extremely young with platinum curls plastered close to his head, and scared and insulted. "It. It kind of is.

"What? It kind of is…a sin?"

Justin nodded.

"Oh." Now Chris felt bad. His voice became less mocking, more friendly. Softer. Almost as if he had been rebuked and needed to defend himself. "Well, some people don't think so. It's not half bad, you know. You should try it sometime." He was being honest…what sixteen-year-old boy didn't jerk off once in a while? It was unheard of. Until now.

"Oh." Justin's face was red now. Chris decided it was enough trauma for Justin for one night. He faked a big yawn and mumbled something about falling over dead, stripped to his boxers and got in bed. He must have really been tired, because he couldn't remember hearing Justin get into bed.

Chris fully expected to be able to tell if Justin had taken him up on his advice. If he had, he was good at hiding it. Chris remembers how after he discovered the joys of his own hand, he couldn't stop. It was an addiction for about a month. He could barely walk he did it so much. So either Justin hadn't done it (what is wrong with him? Being told it's fun and still not doing it!), or he'd done it, and not liked it (again, what is wrong with him?). Neither of those seemed very normal to Chris.

A month or so went by, and they were in another town's low class motel and Chris was fiddling with the Super Nintendo he'd just gotten from some used toy store in a nameless town they stopped in for lunch that day. He'd found a used game cartridge to go with it, so he was busy hooking up the console to play Super Mario World.

Justin came in and busied himself with getting ready for bed. He took his time, like he was avoiding something, and Chris was already halfway through the first Koopa Kid's castle when Justin sat next to him on the ground to watch him play.

"Damn," Chris cursed quietly when his opponent refused to be defeated. "Fuck!"

Justin only watched the screen as Mario bounced up, then fell off the screen, and Chris turned the game off.

"What's up?" he asked, finally noting Justin's presence.

Justin only shrugged. He looked like he wanted to say something, a smile tugged at his lips. He looked like he was embarrassed by what he wanted to say. Chris knew exactly what it was.

"You did it!"

Justin nodded sheepishly.

"Haha!" Chris felt the need to hug Justin. So he did. After he let him go he sat back and gave him a hardy punch on the arm. "You're half a man now!"

Justin only looked at the shaggy carpet, smiling, but clearly embarrassed by the situation.

"What? Was it bad or something?" Chris didn't think that was possible.

"No, it was great. It was. Yeah. I just, um. This is normal?"

"If only you knew how normal!"

"Oh. Ok then."

Chris wiped a mock tear from his eye, "My little Justin, all grown up! Jerking off all by himself now!"

This got a big laugh from Justin, which was just what Chris wanted. It wasn't this big serious thing, after all. Just masturbation.

After that, Justin took longer showers. But since it had come into them being permanent roommates (Joey and Lance both snored, and JC needed to sleep alone or else he'd not sleep at all), Chris didn't mind. He had, after all, helped create the monster.

A year later, they were back in the states, and Chris came out to the guys over hamburgers at his place. They all took it pretty well, which made sense, given the fact that they didn't think they had a reputation to taint, at least not one that mattered to millions of little girls the world over. That would come later, and when it did, Lou made sure Chris had a beard. But that was not for a while. For now, Chris was happily in a relationship with Tom, an old friend from college.

Justin was silent during all the questions and congratulations. He felt a pang of something, he didn't know what. He figured it was shock, and bad meat. He didn't eat anything else that night.

When the party was over, and Justin and Chris were cleaning up, the doorbell rang. It was Tom. He seemed nice enough to Justin, who decided it was none of his business anyways and he ought not to care either way. Chris was a big boy, and he could handle himself. Chris excused himself and left Justin to continue cleaning, saying he’d be right back. When a half hour went by and Justin was done but Chris still hadn’t returned, Justin called his mom to pick him up. On his way out the door, he thought he might at least let Chris know he was leaving. He walked up to Chris's bedroom door, and froze when he heard muffled moans and the repetitive knocking of the bed against the wall. He just left, knowing Chris would understand.

Justin moved in with Chris two months later. Chris didn't talk to Tom about it, since it was very spur of the moment, and he didn't think it needed to be something Tom gave him permission for. Justin had really been fed up with his mother for a while, and one night things just got to be to much. Justin ran the five miles to Chris's house in the middle of a bad storm, soaked to the bone and shivering. After he changed into some of Chris's too big clothes, Justin cried a lot and sort of calmed down, and Chris announced he was moving in. Tomorrow. No arguments allowed.

"This house is too empty, I need the company, I have that extra room down the hall, don't worry, it's not a problem," Chris was good at making it sound like Justin was doing him a favor, instead of the other way around. Justin fell asleep on Chris's couch that night, in his arms, under a big blanket. It felt like where he belonged.

After a bigger argument than before with his mother, Justin and Chris went to get his stuff from the house. There wasn't much, only enough to fill Chris's SUV in two trips. They unpacked and organized for the next two days, and Chris ignored the phone, because he just knew it was Justin's mom, and neither of them wanted to talk to her. Not yet.

Tom came over unannounced, it may have been him calling some of the times, and got a little mad at seeing Justin there. Living there. Chris shooed Justin upstairs to "organize his books and cds or something". Justin did, but that didn't make what he left behind any easier to ignore.

He couldn't make out words, but the tones and voices carried up the stairs well enough. Tom sounded mad. Out of curiosity, Justin left the room and sat at the top of the stairs.

"So now you're after little boys? Asking them to move in with you? You're a fucking pedophile! Is that it?"

"Tom, he's in my band. He's practically family. He had nowhere else to go!" Chris's voice was cracking; he sounded frightened. Tom was a big guy, but Chris never got scared. He was tough.

"He could have gone to one of your other band people, right? Why you?"

Justin didn't hear what Chris said, if he said anything.

"You asshole!" Tom exploded, and Justin thought he heard the unmistakable sound of flesh hitting flesh, a memory from playground fistfights, and sounds of a chair skidding across the wooden floor in the kitchen. He thought he might have heard Chris whimper, maybe even cry.

Justin heard Tom’s animalistic voice, and a scuffle and shoe soles squeaking on the hardwood floor. Then it was the sound of glass shattering, and Justin was to his feet. He wasn't much bigger than Chris, and certainly not bigger than Tom, but he'd be damned if he was going to stand by and let his friend get abused by this creep. Justin was at the base of the stairs when Tom was at the door, letting himself out. He turned to look at Justin, and Justin thought he might have stepped back, even though he meant to stand tall and be brave. He shrunk a little more under the look Tom gave him.

"I hope he makes you happy, infant," he spat, and slammed the door on his way out, and the stained glass in the window next to the door shattered on impact. Justin was already running to the kitchen, praying his friend was still breathing, not hurt too badly. He stopped short in the doorway, gasping at what he saw.

The chair he'd heard skidding had been picked up after the fact and thrown at the china cabinet, breaking the display glass and knocking the china to the floor, where it lay in shards and pieces. Justin didn't see Chris.

"Chris?" he called softly, trying to keep his voice calm, even though he was shaking with what he was afraid to see when he found Chris.

Justin looked to the left, and saw Chris curled up tightly in the corner of the room. He scurried to him, getting to his hands and knees somewhere along the way. Chris was shaking, bleeding under one eye and from his nose, and his eyes widened with unseeing terror when Justin got close.

"No, it's just me, it's ok," Justin instinctively brought his face level with Chris's, forcing the older man to look at him before he reached his hands out to bring him from the corner and into his arms. Chris broke down then. He cried into Justin's shirt and tried not to get blood on it, but Justin told him not to worry about it, and just cry, dammit. So he did.

Later, with a pack of ice over his left eye, Chris explained to Justin that Tom had hit him before, and this was just the inevitable end to a long, rough relationship. That didn't make Justin feel any better, since he still felt like he'd caused this final rampage.

"Don't. Don't do that to yourself, Justin." Chris sounded angry with him, but spoke more softly after seeing Justin flinch at his words. "He was a jealous man. He never hit me when it was my fault, it was just cause he wanted to hit me, and he looked for a reason to do it. If it wasn’t you, it would have been something else. I was going to get hit today one way or another." Chris was, again, making Justin feel less guilty about something he honestly felt had inconvenienced him. First moving in, and now this. Justin was beginning to really appreciate all Chris did for him and the other guys. But he was distressed, because he never knew what he could do to repay him.

That night, Chris was having nightmares, and he shook Justin awake. "Please," he whispered, his emotionally ragged voice cutting through the silence like a sharp blade.

He didn't need to explain. Justin moved over and pulled back the blankets to let Chris in. When Justin turned on his back, Chris got close and laid his head in the space between his shoulder and his chest, and sniffed a tiny sniff. Justin thought he might have felt his shirt getting wet, but he didn't ask, because Chris's breath had suddenly gone even. Justin was once again struck with the thought that this was where he belonged. Here, and not anywhere else. He only sighed, and turned his head away to look at the moon until finally, sleep met him as well.

Later on, Britney became famous too, and got in touch with Justin and JC at an awards show. They became a gruesome threesome after that, hanging out a lot, especially when she toured with them. Chris didn't want to try and get in on that, cause it was an MMC thing, and they went back so much farther than he did with anyone of the group, and you just don't touch something like that. Sometimes they included him, but he still felt a little bit outside their universe, like a temporary visitor.

One day, Justin got an email from Britney while she was busy on her first solo tour, saying how she really admired him for keeping his head on straight in all the glitter and lights, cause she was going crazy out there. And she couldn't be prouder of him for being the man he'd become since MMC, and she hoped he knew that she counted him as someone very special to her, that she hoped he felt the same way, and she was looking for a date to the next awards show, and would he mind escorting her? She'd be honored if he would, and she hoped to hear from him soon.

Justin was mildly confused as to what could have brought this on, and showed the email to Chris, who nearly spat his chicken salad and crackers out when he said, "She's got a crush on you!"

"What? No! That's. It's Britney, man! We're…it's not like that," Justin said in defense of himself more than to argue with Chris.

"Dude! It's so clear! She just asked you out on a date!" Chris was still spewing dry cracker crumbs as he spoke.

"No way! I’d just be escorting her. It’s not like that."

"Justin, it couldn't be any clearer if she'd ended the message with 'PS, I have a crush on you and this would be a date'!" Chris grinned a see-food grin and slapped him on the back, then walked away to finish his snack.

Justin was at a loss for words. He didn't know how he felt about Britney liking him, but he was pretty sure he didn't like her that way, and was almost certain he never would. And besides, he knew for a fact that JC was mad about her, and JC was family, and you don't do that to family. So, no. Justin would not be dating Britney, no matter her feelings for him, or vice versa.

Lou got wind of Chris’s “interests” and set down some very strict ground rules at a meeting one day. Chris was forbidden to date men. Nor was he allowed to have any one-night stands with men, or hang out in gay bars and clubs. To do this would be suicide for the entire group, and no one wants that. Try to act interested in a few girls, maybe have a celerity girl crush, and for god’s sake, could he lower his voice an octave or two when he speaks?

Justin had never see Christ so mad before. The repairman took three days to make the wall in his bedroom look like it had never had a fist through it before. Chris told everyone who wasn’t the guys that he’d tried Justin’s skateboard and failed miserably.

Two weeks later, Justin got some news of his own. Lou made it clear that certain people in the media were keeping an eye on his friendship with Ms. Spears, hoping to find something more beneath the layers. It was strongly suggested that Justin be seen alone in public with her. Make them think something is there, and deny it in interviews. Keep them guessing, and make them think they’re lying. It would be good for publicity.

Justin was scared of Lou. The man was huge, sleazy, low class, and everything else he never would have let his own son near. But his mom did that, not him. So for now, he wouldn’t argue.

He had a talk with JC after that. He tried to apologize, and explain that he didn’t like this anymore than the rest of the group. JC was eerily understanding about the whole thing. Justin supposed it was more years experience in the biz, or maybe just maturity. Either way it made things easier.

Chris was madder about it than he needed to be. Furious, actually. He kept spouting obscenities and going on about how Lou can mess with him, but not his brothers. Justin appreciated the support, but really thought it was a small price to pay for success. He and Britney were friends, at least. This just gave them excuses to hang out more often.

Christmas was coming, and Justin helped Chris pick their tree and decorate the house. It turned out Chris had a big thing for nativity scenes. He must have had about fifteen altogether. The smallest one, a Precious Moments set, went on the mantle over the fireplace. The center had Jesus, Mary, Joseph, and the shepherds with their sheep. Off to the side and some distance from the manger, the Three Kings faced their destination.

This confused Justin when he saw it set up for the first time, he thought the kings needed to be there already, so he moved them to the manger scene. The next day, he saw they had been moved back to one end of the mantle. So he put them next to the manger again. The next day, they were off to one side again, but a little closer to the stable.

Justin’s confused expression gave way to one of understanding. Every few days for the rest of Advent, he would notice that the kings on their camels were a few inches closer to their baby in a manger. On Christmas Eve, Justin asked if he could move them closer, this one last time. Chris smiled brightly, nodding his head, then later explained to Justin where the tradition had come from.

At midnight mass, when they sang the Halleluiah Chorus, Justin looked up at a large modern painting of Jesus. It showed Him floating, backlit by rays of yellow and orange light, his arms were spread wide in a warm, inviting way, and he looked down on Justin with a compassionate face. Justin wondered if the person who painted that picture knew just what they were doing, how much of an effect his painting might possibly have on people in the church.

The next morning, Chris lit the candelabra in the fireplace, and he and Justin exchanged gifts. Chris handed Justin a small package, messily wrapped, and offered no explanation as to what inspired him or what Justin might expect.

Justin opened the green paper to see a small-framed photo of a painting. Justin’s breath hitched when he saw the picture. A man in dirty jeans and a plain shirt held a mallet in his right hand, and a large nail in his left. This man appeared to be in an amount of anguish, or emotional pain. Behind this man, stood Jesus. Jesus held this man up in strong, sinewy arms; the holes in his palms shown bright red, and a tiny river of blood flowed on the ground beneath his feet. Justin had never seen anything so beautiful in his life.

Justin’s gift was small and personal, a small Precious Moments angel he’d had since he was younger. “To go with the manger scene on the mantle,” he said. Chris’s eyes glimmered when the angel was in place.

Whatever peace or tranquility the holidays brought, the New Year quickly erased it. After the televised celebrations where Justin and Britney “bumped into” each other, life became a bit more hectic. Lou was running them thin; nerves were stepped on almost constantly.

“No! No way! Not now, not ever!” Chris screamed at Lou. No way was he going to let Lou force him into a heterosexual relationship. Even if only for publicity’s sake.

“You can’t say no, you signed a contract. It’s legally binding. You do as I say!”

Chris didn’t want to admit that the big fat bastard was right. He stood in the small private room, staring Lou right in the eye in silent defiance.

“I’m right.” Lou spoke quietly, which made each raspy breath he took that much more menacing to Chris. “You know I’m right. Now, she is in a room down the hall, and she is waiting to meet you. We are paying her well for this, and you will not screw this up! Do. You. Understand?”

Chris wordlessly left the room. It wasn’t the first time Lou had won, but it was the first time Chris left a battle feeling he’d lost part of himself as well. It wasn’t fair for him to have to pretend to be something he so obviously wasn’t.

Chris took a deep breath and opened the door to the room where his friends were already meeting her.

“Hi, I’m Chris,” he failed at smiling, but managed to keep the spite out of his voice. She was a pretty girl, and she stood from where she was sitting with a surprising amount of grace. She smiled, and it was genuine. Chris thought she saw sympathy in her eyes, sympathy with not a hint of pity.

“Hi,” she responded. “I’m Danielle”

Across the room, Justin’s chest felt tight, and his mouth felt dry. His eyes met Chris’s for a split second, and it was then that he knew.

This meant war on Louis J. Pearlman.

Finding a lawyer wasn’t hard. The group was big enough now; any lawyer would be willing to represent them. Pro bono, even. The problem was keeping the media out of the hearings. Negotiations. Trials. No one quite knew what to call them. In the end, they turned out to be a long process of opposing lawyers arguing over details about who would lose or gain what in the nullification of a legal and binding contract.

Chris took it pretty hard. He had, after all, been the one who introduced everyone to Big Fat Lou in the beginning. He felt responsible for the trauma and heartache he and the guys were experiencing now.

Lance took it harder. He ended up getting a bunch of books from a store, reading up on legal stuff. No one quite knew anything about what it took to break up a contract.

Lance picked Johnny. Lance made the contract negotiations. Lance was the first to sign on the dotted line. And Chris didn’t mind one bit that Lance was making the choices now. He had a mind for money and legalities. The guys trusted Lance to make the right choices.

Johnny was nicer than Lou. He said Chris could see other guys, but he had to keep his beard. Chris didn’t like the idea of keeping Danielle officially, though she had been a very good friend throughout the months of battling with Lou. She wasn’t a bad person, but her purpose for being there in the first place made things tense between him and her, and also her and the guys.

No one could argue, though, that Johnny was wrong in telling Chris to keep her around. Even Chris wasn't going to argue that now. If Chris were going to see other men romantically, he ought to have a strong alibi linking him to someone not of the male persuasion.

It was a compromise. After Lou and his Big Fat Ultimatums, compromise was a welcome treat.

Johnny said Justin didn’t have to be seen with Britney. But that was too late, because somewhere in the legal proceedings, she’d become something more to him, and they really were dating, and they really did have something to hide.

Chris was upset about that, but he’d never admit it. He’d never admit it to anyone, not even Dani, but in all the shit they’d been through, Justin had been there for him more than anyone. And he thought he watched first hand as Justin matured from a wide-eyed teenager, in awe of the world he was growing into, to a strong, capable young man. Where Chris once felt he had some responsibility to oversee and protect, he now found he had someone who could protect him if the situation called for it.

Chris thought he might have a crush on Justin. But he wouldn’t admit it to himself.

The time came for their second album to release, finally, they thought. They were a little scared. It was edgier. Poppier. And JC wrote this. song. of his. Something about cybersex. In interviews, he heralded the topic as “the safest sex there is”. The other guys thought that when it came right down to it, phone sex is phone sex, and it’s just not something you talk about. Write a song? No!

Joey thought it was pretty funny, too, that JC had been playing the pronoun game in all the songs he wrote. Always “baby”, never “girl”. JC only smiled and said he liked his stuff to be something a girl could sing to her man, too.

Joey thought it was a lie, but he left it at that. Johnny said no matter how he wrote the songs they ought to say girl at least once. People might start wondering, he said. JC made the song about a girl, and didn’t even bat an eyelash at the process. Justin was working his own things out, though, and went to Chris one night.

“So, do you think JC is gay too?”

“What? Where did that come from?” Chris’s glasses were crooked from when a basketball hit him the week before. They tried to fix them, but they still didn’t sit right. Justin thought Chris looked better with glasses. He also liked that Chris got rid of those awful dreads.

“JC. You know, Joey thinks he’s gay.” But Justin suddenly didn’t like that he brought this up.

“It’s none of my business if he is or not.”

“You don’t wonder?”

“Never gave it any thought, no.” Chris was distracted, focusing on numbers for something. He was trying to get this fashion line thing going. Dani was going to help out on another end. Johnny thought it would help with the relationship story.

Justin decided to drop the topic and pull up another one.

“So, why don’t you date now, if you have permission?”

Chris put his pencil down and took off his glasses. “Why do you want to know?”

“Just. Curious?”

“You, of all people in this world, should understand how hard it is to meet people in this business, Justin. If I met someone, I’d date them.” Chris looked frustrated, and pinched the bridge of his nose with two fingers. Justin decided to get to the point.

“So, when you. You know. With, someone else. It’s. Like, fun. Right?”

Chris looked up and saw Justin’s face turn a flattering shade of cherry red. He smiled. “Why, you thinking of getting with Britney?”

“Um, yeah, a while ago, so that’s not it.”

“Then, what?”

“Well, we’ve been dating for a while now. We, do stuff. And at first it was cool, you know? It was new, and exciting, and I guess it was fun. But now. It’s not.”

“Oh.”

“So, like. I know you’re. Um. You’ve done stuff. And I just wondered if it was supposed to always be fun, or does it lose its fun qualities after a while?”

Chris’s eyes went soft and he chuckled a bit. Justin thought he might be remembering something, someone. Perhaps his first. “If you’re with the right person Justin, every time is like the first time. It never loses anything. All I can say is that maybe Brit isn’t the one for you after all.”

“Oh.”

That wasn’t quite what Justin wanted to hear.

“But, what I mean is. Well.” And Justin saw Chris sitting there looking rather bored and suddenly Justin didn’t think this was the time or the place. So he excused himself and left. Chris knew Justin hadn’t said or asked what he’d wanted to, but he didn’t know what the problem was, and as long as Justin wasn’t talking about it, Chris couldn’t help. He wondered what it was.

Chris had a big mouth sometimes, because the next day, Joey walked up to Justin and acted very brotherly, putting his arm around his shoulders and stuff. And he said some things about knowing some nice girls who’d be very willing to spend some quality time with Justin. If he were interested. The next week, Lance’s cousin came on a surprise visit and batted her eyelashes in an all-too-obvious way, and Lance watched her with Justin like a hawk in an even more all-too-obvious way, clearly looking for sparks. After that, JC’s best friend from home, Quentin, spent some time with the guys as well, and his younger sister tagged along a bit.

Justin was too busy watching the all-too-obvious sparks between JC and Quentin to pay any attention to Laurel, who, yes, was batting her eyelashes in an all-too-obvious way.

Justin was getting pretty fed up with obviousness. He was rather beginning to favor the subtleties in life.

So, one day after Quentin and his sister left, Justin approached JC and tried to subtly ask him if he were gay, or at least bi. But he didn’t know how to bring it up, so he changed the topic to Laurel instead.

JC was thrilled.

Later that year, on tour, when they did the show in DC, Quentin showed up at the show with his sister, and Justin suddenly wished he’d kept his mouth shut and his nose in his own business. Laurel talked. A lot. And it wasn’t about anything in particular, either. Just words, flowing endlessly out of her mouth. And she wore makeup, too. She couldn’t have been older than him, but by the stories she was telling, and the way the shirt didn’t hide her breasts and she had to keep shimmying her skirt down over her ass, she sure didn’t act that young.

Justin tuned her out and watched JC with Quentin, or Quent, as he was called. He didn’t think JC could be any more giddy. He smiled too big, and his eyes crinkled too much when he laughed. He could tell by Quent’s face that they liked each other. No matter who JC talked to, Quent’s eyes were on him, studying his face, smiling at something he saw there, getting that lost look in his eyes.

When everyone said goodbye, Laurel gave him her number. He knew he’d never call, and he thought maybe she might know that too, but she gave it to him just the same.

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